


put my heart on ice

by eudaemony



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: "'tis the season to be loveydovey (seungjin 2021)", (he's 1/2 of the HwangSibs), Childhood Friends, Christmas Fluff, Figure Skater Hyunjin, Fluff, Hyunjin is his knight in UnderArmour, Ice Dancer Hyunjin, Ice Skating, M/M, Seungmin is terrible at skating, [shrugs] it is what it is, aka Food for the Soul
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-12 06:14:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29380491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eudaemony/pseuds/eudaemony
Summary: A disgruntled Seungmin goes skating, on his own, for the first time at a public rink. It goes about as well as you'd think. Luckily for him, though, rescue comes in the form of one gorgeous figure skater.
Relationships: Hwang Hyunjin/Kim Seungmin
Comments: 7
Kudos: 85
Collections: SKZ Seasons of Love





	put my heart on ice

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [SKZ_Seasons_of_Love](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/SKZ_Seasons_of_Love) collection. 



> First of all, a big, big thank you to the mods for not only hosting this ficfest, but also for dealing with my annoying, procrastinating mess of a self. This ficlet was written to fulfill the prompt below. I've taken a _couple_ liberties with it, but I hope it's still to your liking, Anon!  
>  **Prompt:**  
>  _It's A's first time on an ice rink (the public one in a busy area that's always overrun in the time before Christmas) and he's really bad at this is on top of it afraid to fall (again). Cue B who helps him out!_
> 
> _But who will ask whom on a date afterwards?_
> 
> I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Sidenote: Yes, the title is from that TikTok song. It was catchy, I finished writing this at 2 AM, and my brain was totally wrung dry. I'm sorry.

It’s on a bright, wintry day in the middle of December when Seungmin first decides, in his 21 years of existence, that he is never going ice skating ever again.

To his credit, a quick trip to the ice rink didn’t sound so bad four hours earlier when he was safely tucked away in bed, swaddled in two, _maybe_ three, blankets, and on one end of a Zoom call with his sister. It didn’t even take half a minute after he’d picked up the phone before she started rattling about ‘better ways to spend a _real_ December day,’ as she had put it, clearly disapproving of how his winter break had been going so far.

Seungmin could understand her frustration; she was all the way in Australia, the great Land Down Under. Outwardly, she was probably thriving under the blazing summer heat, but he knew that the familiar chill of winter had always been her favorite. “Noona, I think you miss winters in Korea more than you miss me,” he teased, voice muffled by the comforter.

“Don’t be silly, Minnie. I miss winters at home _and_ you, which is why I’ve got plans for you today,” she said.

In retrospect, that should have been the first warning sign. But if Seungmin was being honest, he was just a little desperate to rekindle that holiday cheer within; winter had done an exceptional number on him even more so this year, the biting cold seeping into the nooks and crannies of both the city and himself. He wasn’t sure if the skies outside had always been like this in the winter, this gray and dreary and somber.

Perhaps it was that, or maybe it was the fact that it was 5 AM in the morning and his brain wasn’t fully up to speed yet, or maybe he just missed his sister more than he’d like to admit. Or maybe it was all three.

“Okay,” he’d sighed in defeat. “What is it?”

It wasn’t until a full minute _after_ the call ended that he dropped his phone onto his puffy star patterned comforter with a groan, the foreboding regret already looming overhead like big, puffy clouds that were too prominent to ignore.

Seungmin had never been one to back out, though. Three fried eggs and a serving of leftover kimchi fried rice later, he throws on his coat and heads out into the snow-covered outdoors, already regretting his decision to leave the cozy warm walls of his house when the whispering breeze meets his silhouette.

Still, it was too late to go back. He’d finally arrived at his destination, wet patches of melted snow clinging to the cuffs of his jeans, the toes of his boots.

In front of him stood the town ice skating rink. Christmas lights were strung up along the pillars and the boards, what little of the warm light they cast reflecting off of the ice. The rink wasn’t too full yet, not this early in the day, but Seungmin could already spot a few families wading through the ice, hand in hand in hand, wobbling and sliding all over the place.

Seungmin wishes he’d brought his camera today. He’d be perfectly happy standing just outside the boards, snapping photos of whatever caught his eye. After all, he wasn’t half-bad at taking his sister’s photos during competitions.

But that wasn’t what he was here for, and his camera was probably having a grand old time sitting atop his study desk at home.

So instead, he takes a quick photo with his phone camera. He captions it with a few smileys and a snowflake emoji, then sends it to his sister.

_“Visit the public rink ,_ she said.” 

Seungmin walks to the makeshift counter at the front of the rink. There’s a form to fill out on the folding table, a box to hold spare change, and a shelf right behind the volunteer. To the left, a row of lockers and a bench. With every step, he hears the familiar notes of Taeyeon’s “This Christmas” a little clearer.

_“It’ll be fun,_ she said.”

He almost lands on his face after trying to stand up on his feet. Or not-feet, because Seungmin thinks trying to balance your weight on 4mm blades can’t even begin to compare.

_Fun_ is the last word he’d use to describe his experience so far.

Right now, his socked feet are rubbing the wrong way against the sides of the rental skates, but he’s already adjusted them twice and the volunteer in charge at the counter looked way too ready to give him the stink eye if he even thought about going back. It doesn’t help that his legs refuse to cooperate as well. He imagines he resembles a newborn deer, knees knocking and arms flailing.

In Seungmin’s defense, he’s never actually gone skating. It was his sister who did the skating, not him. He had always had more of an affinity for baseball, anyway. 

The sound of blades hissing and scratching against slippery ice sounded too harsh to his ears, long since used to the deep crunch of footfall upon solid ground. He’s used to the friction of soles meeting baseball field dirt, the cloud of dust that takes a good washing to get rid of, not the cold spray of ice flakes that soak through his clothes in tiny, imperceptible patches.

The children from earlier are doing a way better job than him, too. Seungmin would be lying if he said it didn’t bruise his ego just a little. But navigating through ice on knife-shoes just doesn’t come naturally to him. Sue him.

Five agonizing minutes later, he’s still holding on to the boards. Still too afraid to let go and skate across the ice lest he fall on his butt. Briefly, he wonders why he hadn’t called Changbin or Jeongin to come with him; he doesn’t mind going out alone, but having someone to hold onto sounded nice right now.

The sudden shrill of his ringtone cuts through the choral holiday song echoing in the rink, sending him off-kilter. This time, he really does fall on his ass even despite his death grip on the plastic boards.

He hopes nobody saw that.

Answering a call is apparently a lot more difficult with gloves on, but he somehow manages.

His sister’s enthused voice greets him when he places his phone by the crook of his neck. “Seungminnie, how’s it going?”

“Terrible,” he grunts. Was trying to get up on ice always this difficult? This was why he stuck to baseball.

“Aw. I told you, you should’ve gone skating with me when you were little.”

“Noona, you know I hate the cold.”

“Fair point, you were always more of the fall type,” she hums, none the wiser of just how bad he was struggling. Apparently, being the fall type also included _this_ type of falling. The painful, butt-bruising type, at that.

No matter how hard he tries to get a grip against the ice, he just can’t get up. Letting go of the boards, he figures he should try another strategy: pushing himself up and off the solid, frozen ground with his gloved hands.

It works about as well as he expects. Just when he thinks he’s got enough momentum and balance going, the blades catch and slip against the ice, sending him back to the floor with a cry.

“Noona, I’ll call you after I get up,” Seungmin heaves, winded. God, his sister had better treat him to a _feast_ when she gets home next year. He fumbles for the red _End call_ button, barely visible on the screen against the winter sun, and pockets his phone.

Seungmin’s so preoccupied with getting on his two not-feet that he doesn’t even register the quickly-approaching figure, whizzing past the ice on skates. It isn’t until Seungmin hears the skidding crunch of ice against blades, turns his head to his right, and squints at the outstretched hand just a ways away from him, that he realizes someone’s actually here. To help him.

He’s not usually one to trust putting his entire weight on a literal stranger’s hand, but this is the exception. So, he holds out his opposite arm with a little bit of hesitation. The way the hand squeezes his is . . . reassuring. Warm. Sturdy.

It’s with little fanfare that he’s pulled up, and although he still slides back and forth on the blades, he feels a lot better just being _vertical._

Seungmin screws his eyes shut to regain his bearings for a moment. Thinks of what to say, how to thank the kind stranger for helping him. Apparently, he takes more than a moment, because the other felt the need to catch his attention by clearing his throat.

When Seungmin opens his eyes, he has to blink once, twice. And once more for good measure. Because standing in front of him is the most gorgeous man he’s ever seen in his 21 years of existence. He swears it.

All Seungmin can do, rendered speechless as he is, is let his own jaw gape open as he looks at the ethereal being of a man now sliding his boots back and forth over the ice with practiced ease, staying in place. All Seungmin can see is dark brown locks hastily tied in a small, low bun jutting out from underneath a striped beanie, a few stray strands of hair framing the most delicately strong face he’s ever seen.

The tip of his nose reddened by the cold, the beautifully doe-like eyes blinking back at him and then down at his feet. Plush lips pursed into a tiny pout, as if he isn’t sure whether to cut into Seungmin’s temporary reverie or wait patiently. 

Cute.

And then it all sort of comes together the moment he takes in the long graceful line of the neck, the broad shoulders and impossibly tiny waist, the legs that seem to go for miles. That’s when he realizes that this guy isn’t just some guy from his town who’s good at skating (and helping strangers out), he’s a _figure skater_.

Seungmin doesn’t know much about figure skating, beyond the fact that his noona is pretty damn good at it, and that he himself is _not_. His limited knowledge on the sport, however, does include at least a couple of household names.

The Hwang Sibs as most people knew them, were one of those famous duos, known for being the darling pair of the ice dance scene. Hwang Hyunjin and Hwang Yeji, the twins stars who moved as one on ice. The way Seungmin remembers him, however, is a far cry from this man whose moves are the textbook definition of grace.

Before Hyunjin had become _Hwang Hyunjin, renowned ice dancer,_ he was _Hwang Hyunjin, Seungmin’s next door neighbor and childhood friend_ first. Who he happened to have a colossal crush on at the age of 10, but it is what it is.

The thing is it’s been, what, a whole decade since they’ve last seen each other? He doesn’t know if Hyunjin still remembers him. Realistically, he knows that he probably does; the question is whether Hyunjin would care enough to find his presence relevant when Seungmin’s just some town boy from his childhood. But he figures it’s worth a try, so.

If worse comes to worst, he can just pretend he’s a fan. (Truth is, he doesn’t even have to pretend — he’s seen Hyunjin and Yeji skate a few programs, and every single performance he’d ever seen had had him mesmerized.)

“Hwang Hyunjin, right?” Seungmin finally breathes.

“Yup,” Hyunjin nods, popping the ‘p’ at the end. “That would be me.”

There’s a pause. It isn’t heavy, but it’s filled with the weirdly light type of tension that flickers on and off. Seungmin’s about to ditch his entire plan of bringing up the topic of being childhood friends, because now that he thinks about it, it’s kind of creepy. No, it’s definitely creepy. Who even holds onto memories of other kids they used to hang out with for an entire decade? 

But just then, Hyunjin speaks. It’s mellow, maybe even a little meek, but lovely all the same. “I’m not sure if you still remember me, or maybe my vision is worse than I thought and I’m actually mistaking you for someone else but, you’re Seungmin right? You and I . . . before I moved away, we used to be childhood friends.”

Oh. So he does remember him.

“You remember me?”

“Of course I would, why wouldn’t I?”

“I mean, you’re kind of a world-famous athlete,” says Seungmin, now fiddling with the zipper pull on his coat with one hand, and reaching for the boards behind him with the other for lack of something better to hold. That, and he has to stay deathly still or else he’ll fall on his ass again.

The action doesn’t go unnoticed by Hyunjin, it seems, who scoffs at the statement. He would be hard-pressed to deny it, Seungmin supposes.

“And? That doesn’t mean I have to be a world-famous jerk while I’m at it,” the skater counters with a smile that starts to reach his eyes, just the slightest bit more by the second, the longer he watches Seungmin struggle on his skates.

“You got me there,” Seungmin admits. “But if you really want to prove it, you could at least give me a hand.”

Hyunjin laughs, loud and warm and melodic, before holding onto Seungmin’s ice-flake-covered gloves with a sure grip. Seungmin can’t help the chill that wracks through him from the contact, but if anyone asks him, he’ll blame it on the cold.

When Seungmin’s phone rings once again, he already knows who’s at the other end of the line.

“So,” his sister chimes, “You give up and use one of those handy penguins to help you skate yet?”

At this, Seungmin chuckles, eyes locking with a confused Hyunjin.

_“Actually_ , I got myself a living, breathing, very human guide,” Seungmin deadpans. Before his sister can press any further, he cuts her off uncharacteristically with a, “I’ll send you pics later if I remember to. Bye!”

Once again pocketing his phone in his puffy coat, he tugs at Hyunjin’s hand ever so slightly. “We can talk while we skate, can’t we?” Seungmin asks, grinning.

“We absolutely can,” Hyunjin beams at him, before carefully holding Seungmin’s other hand too.

They skate like that around the rink (if one could even call it skating, slow as they were going) for the next half hour or so, until more families with their unruly kids start trickling in, and the music choice shifts from Christmas jazz to some KidzBop rendition of a holiday tune. That’s when they decide to move it somewhere warmer, somewhere cozier.

They spend the rest of the day that way, catching up on lost years pretty comfortably. Or at least, as comfortably as you can when you’ve just reconnected with someone you haven’t talked to in _years._ They learn bits and pieces about each other, filling in the gaps between then and now, with promises to tell the whole story, eventually, over time.

It’s the implication of a _next time_ that has Seungmin feeling warm for the first time in a long time, despite the snow piling up outside the windows. For the first time in a long time, he can finally see the beauty of winter.

And it’s on a bright, wintry day in the middle of December when Seungmin first learns that falling isn’t as bad as it seems, when he has someone to help him up right after.


End file.
